I'll Remember
by Zesty Bod
Summary: A day in the after-life of Bonnie and Damon. Based on 6x01 and the previews of 6x02. One-shot.


I'LL REMEMBER

I woke up at exactly 8:43. I didn't have to look at a clock to know. I had been waking up at the same time every day for six weeks. The sun was always in the same position, causing the light to flood into my bedroom at just the right angle to infiltrate my eyelids. I turned my head and contemplated going back to sleep. But then I remembered that Bonnie would probably be up and hungry soon, and I was tasked with the job of keeping her fed.

It still kind of amazed me how easily we had fallen into a routine together. Well, somewhat easily. The first month was spent trying to figure out where the hell we were and how to get back home. When it became obvious that we weren't ever going home and that were stuck together for an eternity, we spent the entire second month arguing like cats and dogs. We slammed doors, shouted curses at each other and said every awful thing we'd ever thought. I blamed Bonnie for not being strong enough to save us from death. She blamed me for every shitty thing that had ever happened to her.

After a few days of not speaking at all, our anger simmered and turned into quiet acceptance. We were stuck together. We had to make the most of it. Neither of us apologized, of course. That's not our style. We're probably too much alike in that way. Maybe in a bunch of other ways, too. We sat at the breakfast table one morning, not speaking but not arguing either, and I noticed Bonnie eating a bowl of cereal that looked about as tasty as cardboard. I asked if she wanted pancakes, she said yes, and the rest is kind of history.

I was now the designated cook, partly because I started it and partly because Bonnie couldn't cook to save her life. She had somehow subsisted on Ramen noodles and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for eighteen years. The poor girl. I, on the other hand, had an extended lifetime of cooking knowledge and had learned fine cuisine from some of the best. I could make gourmet French, Italian, Mexican...you name it. I could even throw down some barbecue if the mood struck me. Bonnie was still raving about some BBQ chicken I'd made a few weeks ago.

Maybe I'd make it for her again.

It was weird to think of me, being stuck for an eternity in a deserted town, with nobody but my judgey little frenemy. The surprising thing to me was that when she wasn't wagging her witchy little finger at me and nagging me about not killing people and draining their blood, she was actually kind of okay. She didn't complain. She wasn't messy. She thanked me every time I cooked and I could tell she meant it. She appreciated me, which was a feeling that I'm not sure I'd ever felt. Not even from Elena.

Truth be told, Bonnie had become my friend and she wasn't a horrible person to spend eternity with. Elena probably would have been preferable because then I'd at least be getting some sex, but I suppose that I'd have enough sex to last a lifetime. And there was always my hand.

When the sun became more insistent that I start my day, I got out of bed and headed for the bathroom attached to my room. I brushed my teeth, took a shower and then stood in front of my closet and sighed. Gone were my favorite black duds and in their place were a bunch of things I wouldn't be caught dead in if I weren't stuck in 1994. A lot of plaid and jeans that fit a little too snuggly around my man parts and cuffed too tightly at the ankles. I settled for a blue T-shirt and the loosest jeans I could find before I headed out to the kitchen. I already had it in my head that I would make blueberry pancakes with the vampire face that Bonnie "hated." The thought made me chuckle. She was so transparent. I knew she loved them and I think she only insisted on saying she didn't so that we could keep some kind of tension in our relationship. Bickering was comfortable for us. With nothing to bicker about, she had to find something and it seemed that pancakes were it.

The smell of coffee hit my nose as I trotted down the stairs and the sound of old soulful music got louder as I got closer to the kitchen. I rounded the corner and stopped when I saw Bonnie standing at the stove, mixing what appeared to be pancake batter. I smirked and leaned against the open frame of the kitchen, contemplating when I should make my appearance known and tease her relentlessly about what a disaster breakfast would surely be.

In the meantime, I looked her over. She was usually dressed for the day by the time we ate in the morning, but it looked as though she had come straight from bed. Probably to make breakfast before I could. Her short hair hung just above her shoulders and she wore a white tank top that was just thin enough for me to see the color of her skin underneath. An eyebrow raised when I realized that she was not wearing a bra. My smirk widened. My eyes traveled down further to the shorts she wore that cut off right below her butt. Her smooth brown legs seemed long, even on her small body, and she scratched the back of her left leg with her right foot while she hummed along to Aretha Franklin.

_You make me feel_  
_You make me feel_  
_You make me feel_  
_Like a natural woman_

My eyes searched the room and found a record player tucked off to the side, spinning a giant album of the Queen's greatest hits. I quietly walked into the kitchen and sat down in a chair at the table, content to watch Bonnie until she realized I was there. She kept mixing and humming and then she tore open a bag of chocolate chips and sprinkled a few in. The record player went silent for a moment, then the strong beat of another song began.

_Chain, chain, chain_

"Chain, chain, chain," she sang softly.

She sang along, quietly at first, then a little louder and with more heart. "For five long years," she belted, "I thought you were my man." I almost fell out of my chair when I heard the big voice that came out of her little body. The only thing that surprised me more than her voice was the seductive sway of her hips. I couldn't really help that my eyes fell to her butt, which was moving in some kind of hypnotic 'S' pattern while she sang and mixed and sneaked a few chocolate chips into her mouth.

"But I found out...I'm just a link in your chain," she sang. She spun around, eyes closed, so she didn't know that she had an audience. "You got me where you want me. I ain't nothin' but your fool. You treated me mean. Ooooh, you treated me cruel."

I sat, entranced, wondering how a voice like that could come from Bonnie Bennett, the out-of-the-way sidekick and do-gooder without a sexy bone in her body. As I watched her shuffle, in rhythm, to the refrigerator, I began to wonder if she had always been so hot or if I was blinded by what was going on in front of me.

"Chain, chain, chain. Chain of fools."

Bonnie continued to move and sing and hum and I almost interrupted her until I saw her grab the handles of the fridge on both sides and I knew something amazing was about to happen. My eyes nearly popped out of their sockets when she slid down the fridge, doing that damn 'S' motion again, and her butt nearly swept the ground. She slithered back up with the precision of a stripper and suddenly, I was incredibly jealous of that fridge.

She stopped pole dancing long enough to grab whatever she needed out of the fridge and when she turned around, she saw me and nearly jumped out of her skin.

"Damon!" she shrieked. "Shit. You scared the crap out of me."

I was speechless for at least five seconds. I was replaying the dancing in my head, as well as zeroing in on the nipples that I could see through her shirt. It was then that I became convinced that the gods of the afterlife were conspiring against me for all the evil I'd done in my life. I suddenly understood that Bonnie Bennett existed to torment me with all her hidden, untapped sex appeal that she would never use on me. I would spend eternity replaying this kitchen scene.

"Please, don't stop on my account," I said, hoping to save face.

She rolled her eyes and walked back to her mixing bowl.

"No, seriously, don't stop," I said. "Can you drop it low on me like you did for the fridge?"

She grabbed the closest thing to her, which happened to be a loaf of bread, and threw it at my head.

"Erase that from your memory," she said, pointing a slim finger at me.

"No chance, Bon-Bon. _That_ was worth the price of admission." I grinned when I saw a blush overcome her cinnamon cheeks and I decided, very uncharacteristically, to cut her a break. "What are you doing up, making breakfast? I thought that was my job."

"Well, I thought we could switch it up a little. Chocolate chip pancakes are easy, right?"

"Sure. But just in case you burn them, I can always make us those vampcakes you love."

She frowned. I grinned. I then abandoned my seat and joined her near the stove. I peeked over her shoulder to make sure the batter looked good and then I put my hands on her hips and moved us both to the music. Just to tease her, of course. Definitely not so I could feel her soft butt on me or anything.

"What are you doing?" she asked, swatting at my hands like they were flies.

"I want to see some more of those moves."

"In your dreams."

"Definitely in my dreams. Only you'll be naked except for a pair of boots and I'll be throwing dollar bills at you."

She smacked my hand for real that time. "Move. Make yourself useful and pour the coffee."

"Yes, _dear_."

I did as instructed and after I poured the coffee and added a cube of sugar to each mug, I sat down and patiently waited. Every now and then, Bonnie would start to dance again. Then she would remember my leering eyes and stop. A pity, really. When she finished the pancakes, she piled three of them on a plate for me and two for her. She slid me my plate and waited with eager eyes to see if I would like them.

"Delicious," I said, and I wasn't lying. She smiled brightly, like she had done something really complicated, and then nodded.

"Told you they were easy."

"Uh-huh. Hey, why didn't I know that you could sing?"

"There are lots of things you don't know about me." She shrugged and stuff her face full of pancakes.

"Obviously. Like the fact that apparently you were working at strip clubs during your off time."

"Ha, ha. Don't be surprised that I have rhythm, Damon. I _was_ a cheerleader."

"Is _that_ what they taught you in cheerleading? Damn, I should have watched some more practices."

"You're such an old pervert."

"And you're such a young hottie." I wiggled my eyebrows and Bonnie rolled her eyes. But there was also a little smile tugging her lips. "So, tell me, where'd you get a set of pipes like that?"

"I don't know," she said. "Grams, I guess. She used to sing a lot and she played old stuff like Aretha all the time. She took me to church with her some times, too. I didn't really like it but I did like to sing."

"What else can you do that I don't know about?"

"I don't know," she shrugged and looked down at her plate.

I watched her shrinking away like a wilted flower and I felt incredibly guilty. It was pretty clear that Bonnie was uncomfortable talking about herself. Either that or she just wasn't used to being the center of anyone's attention. It made me think of all the times that I had brushed her off or used her just for her powers. I had never really taken the time to get to know her as a person, and I didn't want it to be like that anymore. She was my afterlife partner, after all. My roommie for life. Might as well know her.

"How about this?" I asked. "You reveal some secret about yourself to me, and I'll do the same. I have plenty of secrets."

That last part came out a lot sleazier than I intended and Bonnie frowned.

"If your secrets involve your penis, I'd rather not know."

"Get your mind out of the gutter, you dirty birdy. That's not what I meant. Plus, my sexual prowess is hardly a secret."

I winked. She shook her head.

"We'll make a game of it," I suggested. "Something for us to look forward to every day so the boredom doesn't eat away at our brains like rabid zombies."

"You are really given to hyperbole, did you know that?"

"I may have heard it once or twice. So what do you say? You in?"

"Sure. Why not?"

"Great. What do you want to do today?"

"We need some more groceries. Especially if you're going to make me that amazing chicken and dumplings that you made a few weeks ago."

"If that's what the lady wants, that's what she shall have."

We finished breakfast, sometimes talking, sometimes not. We listened to the rest of the Aretha album before Bonnie excused herself to get ready. I washed the dishes and lounged around the living room until she reappeared, showered and dressed in a sundress that clung to her body up top and flowed at the bottom. A quick check showed that she was wearing a bra, unfortunately.

We set out to the grocery store in a car that we had found abandoned and taken as our own. Even four months in, it was still weird to know that we were the only people around. It was still weird when we went into the store and picked everything we wanted from the shelves and walked through the check-out lanes without paying. Bonnie had felt guilty about it the first few times. "We're stealing!" she'd said. I had to remind her that there was nobody to steal from and we had to survive. Eventually, she got over it.

We spent the rest of the day tooling around the house. Bonnie read a book while I tried to beat myself in chess. It sounds pathetic but it was actually a good game. I pretended I was Stefan and beat myself soundly. When I was finished, I rested my head on Bonnie's lap and insisted that she read to me. She did, without argument, and I nearly fell asleep to the sound of her voice.

As the day wound down, I got dinner ready and Bonnie hung around me in the kitchen. She told me more about her family, mostly because I prodded her until she felt compelled to answer. She ooh'ed and ah'ed over my chicken and dumplings, which didn't hurt my ego at all. We talked easily and drank a few glasses of wine and I felt kind of happy.

"Wanna know one of my secrets now?" I asked.

"Sure," she said with a slightly drunken smile.

"Come on, I'll show you."

I offered my hand but she looked at it like it was covered in poison.

"Damon, seriously, if it's your penis, I don't want to see it."

"First of all, if you ever see my penis, you'll never want to see another one. And secondly, it's not my penis but it is something else that starts with a 'p.'"

She quirked an eyebrow and I offered my hand again. She took it and allowed me to lead her into a room that we hadn't been in much. A baby grand piano sat proudly in the middle of the room, shining like it had just been waxed. I brought Bonnie to the stool and helped her sit down, then I did the same.

"Ah...piano," she said. "Got it."

"What did I tell you about having your mind in the gutter? What would you like to hear?"

"Something beautiful."

I didn't really have to think before my fingers were sliding over the keys, playing the first thing that came to my mind. It was a lullaby that my mother used to sing to me and Stefan. It was something she just made up, I was pretty sure, but I had always liked it. I got the feeling that Bonnie did, too, because about halfway through, she rested her head on my shoulder and sighed. I kept playing, moving from one song to another, until her even breathing let me know that she was asleep. I smiled and finished out the song, before pulling away slightly to gauge just how asleep she was.

When she didn't move, I maneuvered myself around until I could get her in my arms. I scooped her up and she whimpered and opened her eyes briefly.

"Damon?" she asked.

"I'm taking you to bed, Sleeping Judgey."

She chuckled and relaxed in my arms. I carried her up to her room and placed her down so she could change. When she didn't shoo me away, I kicked my shoes off and propped myself up on her bed while she changed in the bathroom. I could hear her humming while she brushed her teeth and when she came back, she looked at me and smirked.

"You're still here?"

"You didn't kick me out."

"I thought the kicking-out was implied when I went to the bathroom."

"I'm not good at implications, Bon-Bon. You have to spell it out for me."

She chuckled and shook her head. "Thank you for bringing me up, Damon. And thank you for dinner and the piano playing. You are formally excused."

I pouted. "But my room is so far away."

Bonnie barely thought about it before she threw up a hand and sighed. "Whatever. I'm drunk and sleepy."

I raised an eyebrow and waited for her to elaborate on what exactly she meant. But instead, she turned off the lights, closed her door and scooted onto the bed. I felt slightly panicked when she pulled back the sheets and slipped underneath. I enjoyed teasing her, of course, but she always put an end to the game before I had to. It didn't appear that she had any intention to make me leave and I was left with a conundrum. Stay, and feel a soft, warm, female body on me for the first time in months? Or call her bluff and leave, only to lie awake in my bed and berate myself for leaving said soft, warm, female body?

Clearly, the choice was easy.

"I usually sleep naked," I said.

"Not tonight, you don't," she said sleepily.

I didn't want to ask how naked I could get before she freaked out, so I stood up and pulled off my shirt and jeans and socks. It wasn't very hygienic to sleep in clothes I'd worn all day, of course, and that was what I planned to tell Bonnie if she asked me why the hell I was mostly naked. She didn't really anything, though, when I got underneath the covers with her, clad only in boxers. The heat of her body called to me like a homing missile and I inched a little closer. Then a little closer. Then a little closer, until I was right behind her but not touching.

"Damon," she said, "if you want to snuggle, just say so."

"I don't _snuggle_," was my first reaction, even though it wasn't true at all. "I'm not Stefan," I scoffed.

She craned her neck around and even though I couldn't see her face, I knew that she was making that "yeah right" expression.

"Fine. Good night," she said.

"Night."

But I didn't sleep. I couldn't. Every cell in my body itched to be close to hers but I just couldn't bring myself to say it. At that point, it would have practically sounded like begging and no matter how cool Bonnie and I had become, I didn't beg. My stupid pride wouldn't let me.

Luckily for me, Bonnie's pride wasn't on the line and she turned around and cuddled up to me with no shame. She rested her head on my chest, threw her arm around my waist and one leg curled over mine.

"Now go to sleep," she instructed.

And I did. With a smile on my face.


End file.
